Teenage Angst
by Kabuki Salamander
Summary: A "coming of age" AU. Kuja & Zidane are adopted brothers, engaged in a sibling rivalry that is more satisfied by hurting those they love rather than those they hate. Eventual Kuja/Zidane.
1. Prologue

Teenage Angst: Prologue  
  
Author: Kabuki Salamander  
  
Archive: Starlet: (http://www.satinflame.net/starlet)  
  
Category: Highschool AU, shonen ai, slight angst  
  
Rating: PG, so far  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy 9, or the characters used here. If I did, then it wouldn't be FANfiction, would it? Of course not.  
  
Authors notes: I know, the highschool AU thing is WAY overplayed, but not in FF9 yaoi! ^.^;  
  
I actually do have interesting plans for this one... though, let's assume Kuja is 4 years younger than his actual age for the sake of story progression.  
  
The title comes from a Placebo song. Wheee!  
  
  
  
----------------  
  
  
  
He woke up with a start in the middle of the night. It was pitch black inside the small bedroom he shared with his brother. The air was hot with oppressing humidity, leaving him feeling as if his lungs weren't pulling in enough air to function. His breath wheezed in and out, and he longed for the clean fall night air outside.  
  
However, his body in it's tired state refused to leave the tangle of sweat- damp bedsheets that clung to his young body.  
  
Half-open eyes drifted to the bedside clock; squinting through his blurry vision to read the time.  
  
It was almost 4am. He yawned briefly, and rolled onto his other side, throwing the twisted blankets into a worse state of disarray. He could feel the scratchy texture of the mattress on his bare feet where the lower sheet had come loose off of the bed. He was far too tired to care. He was too tired to bother fixing it.  
  
At the same time, he was too restless to shut his eyes and continue sleeping.  
  
It had been like this all night. A constant pull between the stressed energy in his mind; thoughts keeping him up, and his body completely drained and longing for a bit of rest.  
  
Tomorrow would be the first day of his senior year. That didn't bother him one bit, however...  
  
Tomorrow would be the first day of Zidane's freshman year at Alexandria high.  
  
Kuja hated Zidane.  
  
He hated how Zidane always got into his things, and messed them up.  
  
He hated how he was always happy, and never took *anything* seriously, it seemed.  
  
And, then there was Garland, their foster father. He had always liked Zidane better, or so Kuja thought to himself. Zidane was never wrong about anything, and he never had to take out the garbage.  
  
He allowed Zidane to invade his privacy time and time again.  
  
There were several such instances that came to mind, and if someone were to ask, the list would have no end. "Shaky" was the closest to a nice word used to describe their brotherly relationship.  
  
Zidane had tried to make an effort to establish some sort of bond between them, he knew. But, Kuja didn't care, and he wanted no part of it. Zidane trials were a bigger nuisance than anything else.  
  
He knew that it was flat-out crude to not even give it a try, but the thought of a possible friendship between them made him shudder.  
  
Everything Zidane did was one annoyance after another to Kuja. Though to everyone else, it was cute.  
  
Cute. That thought made Kuja sick.  
  
Nightmares of the worst-case scenarios played in his head. Zidane, the squirrely, cutesy, freshman running about the halls, and turning his life into a social disaster. He could see Zidane following him around in-between classes, and- even worse- sitting with him during lunch. His friends would probably stop talking to him. He would be deemed 'That freshman geek's brother'  
  
Kuja swallowed down hard and tried to be a little more optimistic.  
  
What if Zidane found his own friends and left him alone completely? He doubted the likelihood of it, but it could very well possibly happen. It was the most he could hope for, and for now, that would have to do.  
  
If push came to shove, he could sit down and have a little 'talk' with him about highschool politics within social circles.  
  
And, he had to admit, that freshmen initiation would be *great* fun to play out on the poor naive little kid.  
  
Kuja let himself daydream on the matter as his foster brother slept unsuspecting on the other side of the cramped room, snoring softly.  
  
Kuja caught a glance at the clock as slumber caught him in her warm embrace once more.  
  
It was 4:47 AM.  
  
This year would prove interesting, as the minutes ticked on by.  
  
  
  
  
  
TBC 


	2. 1- Meet the Fairy, Zidane

Teenage Angst 1/?  
  
Author: Kabuki Salamander  
  
Archive: http://www.satinflame.net/starlet  
  
Warnings: Implied Shonen ai, Language, AU  
  
Rated: PG-13  
  
Standard disclaimers apply. I don't own FF9 or any of the respective characters.  
  
Story is mine.  
  
-----------------------------------  
  
  
  
"Since I was born I've started to decay  
  
Now nothing ever, ever goes my way."  
  
Placebo - "Teenage Angst"  
  
  
  
Kuja didn't wake up to his alarm that morning, but woke Zidane instead.  
  
He felt rejuvenated and refreshed, ready to face his first year of highschool.  
  
  
  
He'd been waiting for this moment for most of his life; his first day no longer considered a child, but as a young adult. He'd seen his new school during class registry, but the halls had been completely empty other than the occasional staff member walking the corridors.  
  
He was interested in what type of people he'd meet, what the teachers would be like, and if the dramatic arts program was any better than the one in Junior High.  
  
  
  
Zidane stretched lazily, and tossed the covers off of him.  
  
  
  
"Hey Kuja, it's time to get up!" He said.  
  
  
  
Kuja grunted and rolled over in his sleep. He didn't look like he was at all ready to awaken. If that were the case, Zidane didn't want to be the one to do it either. Kuja could be... difficult in the morning.  
  
He wasn't the type to lose his cool and yell, but he became *very* bitchy, and would throw the nearest object at whomever had the guts to try disturbing him while he lay in deep states of rest.  
  
  
  
Zidane wasn't going to chance being there when Kuja woke up.  
  
Instead, he reset the alarm for another five minutes, turned the volume on the buzzer up to full blast, and set it beside Kuja's head.  
  
  
  
He'd be mad, sure, but would forget once he got into his morning routine.  
  
Kuja was too punctual to worry about such things, and he only had so long before they had to be at school.  
  
  
  
Zidane headed off to the shower in the upstairs bathroom the two of them shared. It was better to be in the bathroom before Kuja, as it usually took him a great while to get ready in the morning, and better to be out of the path of destruction when the alarm woke him up.  
  
----------  
  
Zidane had already showered, dressed, and had his bowl of rice crispies loaded sugar before he heard the loud buzzing noise of Kuja blow-drying his hair. His morning routine had taken twice as long as it usually did this morning.  
  
  
  
"C'mon bro, we're going to be late!" Zidane yelled from the bottom of the stairs. He got no response.  
  
  
  
"It's not going to kill you if you go to school with wet hair, you know!" and still he received no answer.  
  
"I'll get him," came the voice of Mikoto, their older sister, from behind him.  
  
  
  
She marched up the stairs in annoyance. Shortly after, the hairdryer shut off and muffled banging noises came from the floor up above.  
  
Zidane waited patiently, and silently empathizing for his brother.  
  
When big sister has had enough she would could become pretty harsh.  
  
  
  
Garland wasn't around often with all of his work, and as the hours in the office increased, she had become the mother they didn't have.  
  
Unfortunately, her patience was on a short string. There were certain expectations that she had for the two brothers, one of which being; punctuality. She had strong beliefs in self-preservation and the ability for them to behave and get things done. All of the expectations she had for them were high, and from her point of view, they were perfect.  
  
Anything less was swiftly dealt with by her. The two of them would sooner hop off a cliffside than cross her.  
  
Though as much of a disciplinarian she could be, she also had a big heart, and they both loved her dearly.  
  
  
  
What's with you this morning, Kuja?" Mikoto asked him as she trekked back down the stairs with him in tow, "I've never seen you this lethargic... especially on a school day."  
  
Kuja didn't answer, but nodded while staring at the carpet.  
  
"You're going to be driving Zidane to school. Please try to get there on time, and be nice to him, ok? Show him around or something."  
  
  
  
"Sure." he replied with a melting smile, earning one in return from his sister.  
  
"Ok, have a good day you two."  
  
Once Mikoto's back was turned, the smile faded into a dark scowl.  
  
  
  
"Listen kid, when we get there, I don't want to see you, I don't want to talk to you, and I don't want anyone to know I'm even related to you. Got it?"  
  
  
  
Zidane didn't fully understand, but he nodded.  
  
"Sure, whatever. Can we just go?"  
  
  
  
Kuja nodded and grabbed his backpack as he headed out the door.  
  
  
  
---------------------------  
  
  
  
Zidane wasn't feeling as excited about the prospect of high school after his car ride with Kuja. The radio was blared so loud that his ears were ringing; and what a horrid noise it was! While Zidane's taste usually had a very eclectic taste in music-- Kuja's was apparently even more so.  
  
  
  
"David Bowie, or My Life With the Thrill Kill Kult?" Kuja had asked him after they'd gotten in the car.  
  
  
  
"David Bowie" He said quickly, he didn't know much of his stuff, but had never heard of the latter.  
  
  
  
"Ah, Thrill Kill Kult it is! Good choice!"  
  
  
  
After they'd gotten there, Kuja had implored that he not go in with him. He didn't want to be seen with Zidane -at all-. Feeling slightly put off, he went inside, and dodged other students as he pushed his way into his first class long before the bell rang.  
  
  
  
He didn't know a single person inside the entire facility, and didn't particularly feel like standing in the school commons like exactly what he was- a freshman with no clique to hop into for protection. Kuja had great fun taunting him during the summer with freshman to senior horror stories.  
  
That aside, sitting by himself for 15 minutes didn't seem like a great deal of fun.  
  
  
  
His first class was Alexandrian History with Ms. Brahne. She was already in the classroom preparing for the day as he went in. From what he could see, Ms. Brahne was *not* a very nice looking lady. She was crouched over a shelf of books towards the front of the room.  
  
  
  
But sometimes appearances can be deceiving, as he trudged into his class long before the bell, she offered him a pleasant smile.  
  
"Good Morning! I'm Ms. Brahne" She introduced herself even though he knew who she was, and her name was written across the dry erase board, "And you would be...?"  
  
He shifted the weight of his backpack on his shoulder, "Zidane."  
  
  
  
She stood, and walked over to her desk. Peering through her glasses, she scanned over the class role list.  
  
"Zidane... Zidane... Ah! Zidane Tribal! Well, I'm pleased to m-- Wait... You aren't related to Kuja Tribal, by chance?" She peered at him over her glasses.  
  
  
  
"Yeah, he's my older brother." he admitted.  
  
  
  
"Oh." She didn't sound nearly as friendly as she did before, in fact, her voice had taken on a very rude tone. "Sit down wherever. Class should be starting soon enough."  
  
'So much for not judging by appearance,' he thought as he took a seat, 'what a bitch.'  
  
  
  
--------------------------------------------------------  
  
  
  
The rest of Zidane's classes carried on much the same. If a teacher didn't hate him because of Kuja, he was grateful. Thus far, two out of his six teachers weren't completely rude. Mr Baku in English knew Kuja, but didn't care -- the other teacher didn't know Kuja at at all.  
  
  
  
Kuja had always gotten terrific marks, so Zidane didn't understand why he was so loathed among the faculty until lunch came around.  
  
  
  
Zidane had brought his own lunch, as he was never bold enough to eat school food. He found an empty table to seat himself, and eat in complete solitude. The setting was pretty standard in the common room. A few students wandered around going about various tasks. The noise level was high, and the sounds mingled together to create a collaborated drone of honeybees. Zidane was halfway through a small box of Sunmaid raisins chuckling to himself at the thought of honeybees with backpacks and Aber- Crombie and Fitch shirts going from class to class, when a commotion arose. He turned, and started at something he wasn't quite expecting.  
  
  
  
Kuja was walking through the commons with a large following behind him. It wasn't the same Kuja that Zidane had left with in his standard jeans and t- shirt, however.  
  
He was wearing thigh-high bitch boots, a white-half skirt thing, and some other things that Zidane couldn't quite categorize as anything other than fairyish.  
  
His brother was something not quite like what he'd originally thought. Unless the drama class was staging a theater version of 'To Wong Fu', and Zidane wasn't aware of it, he was pretty sure that his brother was a closet transvestite, or just loved pretending to be queer.  
  
Zidane looked down at his own blue jeans, navy blue t-shirt, and Doc Martins. He suddenly felt very unglamorous.  
  
  
  
As Kuja stalked past him, without giving a second look in his direction, his hand brushed out and knocked over Zidane's can of Coca-Cola, spilling it onto his lap.  
  
"Whoops." Kuja said dryly as he walked away with his friends chortling behind.  
  
  
  
Zidane swore under his breath and stood up. His fists curled into tight balls in anger, "You asshole!" he yelled.  
  
  
  
Kuja halted and turned on his heel, "Don't fuck with me, Freshman. You'll be biting off a lot more than you can chew."  
  
He walked away silently.  
  
  
  
"Don't let him get to you." A girl said from behind.  
  
  
  
Zidane turned to see a dark-haired girl standing there, looking just as angry as he.  
  
  
  
"I've heard about him. He causes a lot of trouble, but all in all, he's just a stupid faggot, anyway."  
  
  
  
"He's my brother." he said numbly.  
  
  
  
"Oh... I'm sorry. I don't get along with my family either. Anyway, stay here and I'll go get you some napkins to clean yourself up with. I'm Garnet, by the way." she said, extending her hand-- palm facing down.  
  
  
  
He accepted her hand gently, "Zidane. It's nice to meet you."  
  
  
  
She smiled brightly, and hurried away.  
  
  
  
----  
  
  
  
-Kabuki Salamander (kelsey@gwnation.net) 


	3. 2 - Roses are red...

Teenage Angst Part 2  
  
Author: Kabuki Salamander (kelsey@gwnation.net)  
  
Archive: Starlet - http://www.satinflame.net/starlet  
  
Warnings, and such: Shonen ai, Angst, Language, AU  
  
Rated: PG-13  
  
Standard disclaimers apply. I don't own FFIX or any of the characters harmed... er... I mean "used" (that doesn't sound right either) in the writing of this fic. If you understand that, then you may proceed to read this. If you don't understand, then you can read anyway, so long as you don't contact your lawyer over it.  
  
  
  
----  
  
It didn't even occur to Zidane that Kuja was part of the school's thespian troupe as he headed into his 8th period drama class taught by Mr. Baku, who also doubled as the Freshman English teacher.  
  
Zidane felt a rare burst of confidence as he walked into the soft-carpeted drama room; soft carpets because the students sat on the floor. Dramatic Arts had always been one of his favorite studies, and saying he was particularly good at improvisation was an understatement. However, the self- assurance passed quickly when he spotted Kuja among the students that were casually speaking amongst one another, and the few that carried on conversation with the teacher himself.  
  
Kuja was sitting next to another senior, a girl with blonde hair that framed a pale, pretty face. They were locked in serious conversation when Kuja's head turned, and looked mortified until it hardened into a deathlike glare.  
  
Zidane found a spot in a far corner, next to another student while feeling Kuja's eyes burning holes into his skin.  
  
"Zidane, right?" asked the girl beside him. Her white hair flopped into her face, which she made no move to push aside.  
  
"Yeah, how did you know?"  
  
"Kuja and Beatrix have been arguing about you ever since they got here." she whispered, "she doesn't agree with picking on Freshman, especially since she was the one who always defended him in his freshman year from what I've heard... and overheard."  
  
Zidane smiled, "I remember his first day of highschool. He came home crying and told dad that he never wanted to come back here again."  
  
"Dad? You two are related?"  
  
"Yeah, but not by blood."  
  
"Hmmm. Well, anyway, the senior class isn't too brutal on the new blood, but homosexuals aren't exactly popular."  
  
"He's gay?"  
  
"Honey, look at him. He's as queer as a three dollar bill!" she said out loud, not realizing that the class had quieted down to begin. Most everyone was staring at her, but she didn't seem to notice. She looked more proud at her clever anecdote than anything.  
  
"Thanks for sharing that with everyone, Freya." Kuja said to her with a snort.  
  
She grinned back at him, "I consider it my duty to warn the new recruits of who they should not dare to bend over in front of."  
  
Zidane's blush went unnoticed, while Kuja shuddered and Beatrix tried to hold back a giggle.  
  
Mr. Baku chuckled slightly, and drew the class to attention.  
  
  
  
---  
  
"Hey!"  
  
While getting his backpack out of his locker, Zidane turned and saw Garnet. He was about to wave to her, but stopped when he realized that she was talking to someone else, and hadn't noticed him.  
  
He watched her walk towards a young girl, who was about 10 or so, who was carrying a Powerpuff Girl lunch box.  
  
"What are you doing here?" Zidane overheard Garnet say to the little girl.  
  
"Mom said to walk here after school so she doesn't have to make any stops before getting home."  
  
"Ah, ok. Well let's-- Ah! Zidane!" Garnet finally noticed him, "Hold a sec, Eiko."  
  
She hurried over to him, "Did everything go okay?"  
  
"Relatively well. I have drama class with my brother, but he pretty much ignored me. One of his friends was pushing him off the subject of freshman- beating so he couldn't get around to it. I figure that if she ever stays home sick then I'll be fucked."  
  
"Ouch. Well, I wish you luck. I wish I could do more for you, but obviously I can't be there."  
  
"I'll be just fine, really. No worries."  
  
"Ah, good. Well, anyway, I have to run. Can I call you sometime?"  
  
"Sure," he said, and reached to his backpack to grab his notebook and a pen.  
  
He ripped out a sheet of paper, and scratched his number out on it.  
  
"I can't have calls after ten o'clock because my dad will be asleep, but I'm home most of the time."  
  
He handed the paper to her, which she pocketed.  
  
"Hey, isn't that your brother?"  
  
Zidane looked to his side, and there was Kuja, waiting for him impatiently. He had changed out of his waifish attire and back into the black slacks and 'Placebo' t-shirt that he'd had on that morning.  
  
"Oh, hell! Yes, it is. I guess I'll talk to ya later, Garnet. Bye!"  
  
"See ya!"  
  
Zidane strode over to where Kuja stood with his arms crossed.  
  
"So far as the family and everyone else knows, I'm not gay. Never have been; never will be," he said quietly, "I'm actually going to say 'please' to you, so please, Zidane, don't tell anyone."  
  
Zidane nodded, swallowing a lump that'd risen in his throat, and they walked to the car together in nervous silence.  
  
----  
  
'Roses are red,  
  
Violets are blue;  
  
Sugar is sticky,  
  
and ejaculation is too.'  
  
Kuja bit down on his lip, and stared at his dinner.  
  
'Menstruation is red,  
  
Bruises are blue;  
  
Teenage Angst's got me down,  
  
So what else is new?'  
  
He winced, but noone was looking at him to notice.  
  
'Dear lord, how can Zidane stand this crap? What a pig. Ugh.' he thought randomly and continued writing poem's in his head.  
  
'Paprika is red,  
  
This is meat is oddly blue;  
  
Chlorine in hair is stringy,  
  
and Mikoto's roast beef is too.'  
  
Kuja pushed his food around on his plate to make it look like he'd ate some of it, while Zidane was almost finished with his dinner. Garland wasn't due until later that night, and Mikoto's idea of a nutritious meal was very contrary to his idea of what dinner should look like.  
  
"Are you feeling ok, Kuja?" Zidane asked in between bites of his lumpy, undercooked mashed potatoes.  
  
Kuja scowled at him, "As if it's any of your fucking business, but yes, I'm just peachy."  
  
'Lipstick red,  
  
Eyeshadow blue;  
  
My underwear is chafing,  
  
and Zidane is too.'  
  
"You're starting to be a real prick, you know that?"  
  
"No, I'm actually quite a nice person. I just happen to wish you'd never been born right now."  
  
Zidane feigned a sympathetic look. "Awwww. I think someone needs a big hug. Or maybe you should just eat your dinner, bro. It couldn't be that bad. I'm sure you're used to having large chunks of meat in your oral cavity by now..."  
  
Kuja's face paled, and he stood up. His chair made a loud screeching noise on the wood floor, and practically tipped over out of the quickness of his actions.  
  
He stared at Zidane momentarily, and narrowed his eyes while searching his mind for something to say. His lips faltered in a swelling of anger, and he did the first thing that came to mind--  
  
he brought his hand back, and slapped his brother across the face. He saw the look of surprise on Zidane's face, but didn't stay long enough to see it.  
  
Kuja ran.  
  
It was only 7:30, but he didn't feel like being awake anymore for the day, as he entered the room they shared, and threw himself onto his bed. Digging under his pillow, he found the remote to the stereo, and clicked it on.  
  
'Roses are red,  
  
Violets are blue...  
  
...God, I hate this.'  
  
  
  
About ten minutes passed before the door cracked open, and light poured into the darkened room.  
  
"Kuja?" Zidane's tentative voice was heard, as he came into the room.  
  
Kuja felt the weight on his bed shift slightly, as Zidane sat down at the foot of it, but he didn't say anything.  
  
"I'm not going to hate you, but I'm not sorry either. You've been dealing shit out to me ever since I can remember, and have I ever hit you over it?"  
  
Kuja still said nothing, so Zidane continued.  
  
"This is the first time I've ever actually said anything back, and it hurts, doesn't it?"  
  
Kuja struggled to keep silent, but the urge to voice his thoughts won out. "That was a really low blow, Zidane."  
  
"Yeah, it was. But so has everything you've ever said to try and hurt me."  
  
"Leave me alone."  
  
With a sigh, Zidane stood up. Just before leaving, he paused, "You know, I... oh, nevermind."  
  
He shut the door quietly behind him.  
  
Kuja grabbed the stereo's remote again, and turned up the volume. David Bowie's voice flooded the room with the song 'Five Years'. Kuja closed his eyes, and ran his fingers through his long bangs. He thought about the movie 'Labyrinth', and the scene where Jareth and Sara dance at the masquerade ball inside Sara's dream.  
  
He fell asleep thinking about that moment, and wishing that he could have been Sara dancing with the handsome Goblin King who sang to him, and that he hadn't a care in the world.  
  
---  
  
End Part 2 


	4. 3 - The Greener Side

Teenage Angst: Part 3  
  
Author: Kabuki Salamander (kelsey@gwnation.net)  
  
Archive: Starlet: (http://www.satinflame.net/starlet)  
  
Category: Highschool AU, shonen ai, slight angst  
  
Rating: PG-13, so far (Yes, the rating is going up... and expect to rise more later)  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own FF9. This is a particularly good thing, as then it wouldn't be nearly as cool (But it would be yaoi! ^_~). I also don't own any of the character's mentioned, and their portrayals here are far from being accurate. Yep. That's about it.  
  
Notes: I'm soooooooooo sorry for taking so long, everyone. My apologies!  
  
I thank everyone who has been patient in waiting for the next part, as much as I thank everyone who has been impatient and nagged at me to get this part finished. Truthfully, this part wasn't supposed to go like this, but my mind decided on character interaction and dialogue, as opposed to the small action/adventure scene I had planned. I'll have to get to that later, I suppose. ^^  
  
  
  
-------------------------  
  
  
  
Late in the night, Kuja found himself awake again, and left to only to burdensome thought.  
  
As much as he tried to will them away, they came with different images in his mind, flowing through so quickly that he couldn't grasp onto any single one, but yet danced about as unwelcome intruders to his slumber.  
  
Pale red light shone from numbers on the alarm clock as being a little before 5AM. Being alone and awake at the hour made the numbers seem so lonesome. And as he lifted his head slightly, he could see that he was indeed alone. Zidane's bed was left completely untouched, and still made up from the morning previous.  
  
He sat up slowly, and stretched out his long legs and arms, arching his lower back until it made a cracking sound. Fingers ran through his tangled hair, as he rolled his head from side to side, working out the kinks.  
  
"G'mornin' Kuja," he said to himself, "Rise and fucking shine."  
  
He kicked the covers aside with one foot, and threw his legs off the side of the bed, while rubbing the sleep away from the corners of his eyes.  
  
In bare feet he found himself stumbling downstairs clad only in pajama pants, yawning along the way.  
  
He paused momentarily at the bottom of the stair at the sound of voices coming from the family room. 'Someone left the TV on... Damnit, Zidane!' he frowned as he waltzed into the living room, and halted at a sight before him that immediately softened his expression. Zidane was curled up into a tiny ball on the puffy blue velour couch against the far wall. He was wrapped around a large white throw pillow, clad in only a T-shirt and a pair of striped boxer shorts. He was breathing softly, with his lips slightly parted, completely oblivious to Kuja's evaluative eyes.  
  
Kuja picked up a knit throw blanket from atop the couch, and spread it out across his brother's sleeping body, tucking it against his arms and legs.  
  
Zidane muttered something incomprehensible, and curled his head deeper into the cushions.  
  
'He looks so innocent and sweet like this. It's too bad that he'll eventually wake up,' Kuja thought to himself, 'I feel sorry that I hate you, Zidane. But, I really can't help it.'  
  
He found the remote control laying on the oval-shaped oak coffee table in front of the sofa, and clicked off the television.  
  
Allowing himself one last hesitant glance towards his young brother's small, peaceful form once more, he left to take his morning shower with his eyes clouded and still cast downwards.  
  
  
  
*****  
  
  
  
Backpack on his shoulder, Zidane walked though the commons with his head lowered, and trying to move as quickly as possible to get away from the swarm of students that were socializing before first period.  
  
Boyfriends and Girlfriends latched onto each other; air-headed girls laughing too loudly about things of no importance; drama students flocking together and sitting in silence... and then there were students like him who were alone and only hoped to make it through the stress of that which was known as higher education.  
  
He felt that he had much to be thankful for this morning as everything had stayed routine, and surprisingly quiet. Though he knew better than to get used to this rare blessing.  
  
So long as he lived underneath the same roof as Kuja, nothing would ever be remotely close to pleasant.  
  
"Hey, Zidane!" someone called out to him, and he raised his head to see a familiar face within his sights, sitting at a table and waving him over.  
  
He smiled as he approached her, thankful for company.  
  
"Freya, right?"  
  
She nodded, "Have a seat. I always feel like a loser when I'm sitting down by myself. I just want to yell at everyone to let them know I'm waiting for someone," she said as she pulled out a hard plastic chair next to her own.  
  
"Who are you waiting for?" he asked, and sat down in the chair that was offered.  
  
Her eyes shone suddenly bright. "Fratley. Just... a friend."  
  
But a blush underneath a mop of white bangs only slightly betrayed her words.  
  
"Ah, sure. A friend. I gotcha," he replied with a smirk, "But I don't exactly see you a 'friendly' type. He must be one hell of a guy."  
  
"I guess he is," Freya said in return, and propped her head up on the table with both her hands under her chin. She sighed softly and pushed at her bangs which fell annoyingly over the right half of her vision, but they fell adamantly back into place. "He's pretty cool, ya know?"  
  
Zidane stared at her blankly.  
  
"Well... I guess you wouldn't know. Heh."  
  
He shook his head, "Never met him. But, you know that just because you think he's the cat's meow, doesn't mean that I would too. It's all a matter of tastes, I think. He could be the Ken for your Barbie, but not necessarily the Captain for my Skipper."  
  
"You're weird, Zidane. Wait... wait, wait. Skipper? Captain?" she raised her one visible eyebrow at him, "Are you gay? Does this run in the family, or something?"  
  
"Me? Nah. Kuja has enough stud-lust in him for the both of us combined, I believe. It would break the balance if I jumped the fence."  
  
She shrugged, "Well... you know what they say. The grass -is- greener on the other side.... just so long as your it doesn't involve Fratley, that is."  
  
"Yeah, but which one is the other side, and which one is greener?" Zidane asked as the first morning bell rang. Freya stood and slung her overstuffed red bookbag over her shoulder.  
  
"Why are you asking me? You should already know. Right, Freshman?"  
  
"Sure," He replied, more to himself as Freya was ignoring him while looking around in an irritated manner.  
  
"Well, no Fratley today," she sighed, "I'll see you in 8th, I guess. Take it easy, kidd-o!"  
  
"See ya."  
  
Zidane slid back his chair to stand and grabbed his backpack off the back of the seat. His behind felt slightly sore from sitting too long on the extremely uncomfortable plastic, so he took a brief moment to let his legs stretch out before he headed off towards his incredibly dull 1st period class with Ms. (bitch)Brahne. As he walked with quick-paced steps to avoid being late, he caught the sight of his older brother in his peripheral vision, fumbling with the combination to his locker. Now out of his loose- fitting jeans and black button-up shirt that he'd been wearing this morning when they'd left for school, Kuja was back to looking beautiful and Glam like the previous day. The only difference was the outfit which today consisted of black knee-high combat boots, too-short and too-tight shorts, and a black silky top that looked like it belonged to a two-piece lingerie set. Were Kuja a woman, Zidane would have thought he looked like someone out to get a piece of.... something. A piece of ass, or a kick in the ass from a homophobic bigot, he didn't know. But, it did worry him a little. Kuja could find himself in a whole heap of trouble if he didn't tone it down a little. The only way Zidane knew it was in fact a male underneath the drastically femme attire was because it was his own brother, really. But what if others didn't know that? What if someone came on to Kuja, and....  
  
These thoughts fleeted through Zidane's mind only momentarily as he hastened his walk past his older brother, ducking his head slightly so he wouldn't be recognized, and made it to his class only just in time for the second bell to ring.  
  
  
  
TBC (and I'll try to make haste this time.) 


End file.
